


Blindfold

by conceptofzero



Category: BioShock
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 15:05:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1748918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conceptofzero/pseuds/conceptofzero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The negligee is from Fontaine’s. So are the pumps, and her dresses and all of the clothes, except for the dress she was wearing when she came to Rapture, and a few lab coats bought with her first paycheck. This is part of Frank’s job offer, an agreement that she will exclusively work for Fontaine Futuristics and other Fontaine subsidiaries as required. A steady paycheck is good, but he offers her more. Frank will give her the chance to do her experiments with no disruptions so long as results are produced. He will allow her to purchase whatever she needs from his other business ventures at a reasonable discount. And… he will assist her with her other, more complicated needs. </p>
<p>(A rewrite of the Frank/Brigid scene from the Bioshock: Rapture)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blindfold

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a kinkmeme request to write out the sex scene from Bioshock: Rapture and make it work. Most of the first half's dialogue and actions are taken verbatim from the book.

The negligee is from Fontaine’s. So are the pumps, and her dresses and all of the clothes, except for the dress she was wearing when she came to Rapture, and a few lab coats bought with her first paycheck. This is part of Frank’s job offer, an agreement that she will exclusively work for Fontaine Futuristics and other Fontaine subsidiaries as required. A steady paycheck is good, but he offers her more. Frank will give her the chance to do her experiments with no disruptions so long as results are produced. He will allow her to purchase whatever she needs from his other business ventures at a reasonable discount. And… he will assist her with her other, more complicated needs. 

“What’s the hold up kid?” Frank taps at the bathroom door. She looks at herself in the mirror and tries to imagine that maybe she is an ordinary woman and this is normal. But her imagination has always been lacking when it came to anything not scientific. She is still Brigid Tenenbaum and she looks like a fool, dressed in silk and lace that do nothing but highlight how flat she is, how even now that she’s in her twenties, there are no curves on her body - only sharp lines. The tapping comes again, but it’s more like knocking now. “Brigid, open up.” 

She unlocks the door, since this is his office. Frank opens it and takes a good long look at her. She knows he must be disapointed. Perhaps he thought maybe she would be acceptable once she was not in a lab coat. Now he sees that she is unchanged. Brigid Tenenbaum may be a genius in the laboratory but she is undesirable. This she knows. 

“Huh.” He finally says, dragging his eyes up to her face. “You clean up good. Ain’t so mousey looking now.” 

That’s not what she expected. Her face reddens and she’s not sure if she should be flattered or insulted. This is usually how she feels when Frank talks about her. Compliments and insults are much the same to him. “I feel foolish.” 

“You look scrumptious. Get out here, lemme see you with some heels on.” Frank waves for her to come out and follow him. Brigid does as commanded, padding barefoot across the carpet in the fisheries’ office. Even with the shutters all closed, she feels exposed. The heels wait for her, red pumps that Frank picked out himself. They are unlike what she has worn since she turned sixteen, and when she steps into them, she has to remember how to walk in tall shoes. Frank is pleased and he strips down as she carefully walks around the office, finally sitting on the couch and watching as he removes his things.

Her wine remains where she last set it down, on the floor, and she scoops her glass up. Brigid is not drunk, though she likes the idea that Frank may think she is. What she is asking him to do to her is… disgusting. Repulsive. And so, if she is thought to be drunk, then it can be excused. Brigid tips back the rest of her wine and sets the glass down. She does not want to actually be drunk though, not for this. 

When he’s down to his undershirt and his shorts, he comes over to her, sitting on the couch. He takes her hands in his, and she is reminded of how rough his hands can be. For a businessman, he has worked much with them. Her father said you could trust a man who works with his hands. This is a lie, but then, she was told many lies by her father, the biggest one being that things would be okay. Things are never okay, they just become different kinds of worse. Survivors understand this. 

“Hey, you with me?” He squeezes her hands. It’s meant to be reassuring. It’s not. Her heart flutters in her chest. She is terrified and she is anxious, and perhaps she is also excited. It’s the excitement that makes her look away from him, ashamed that she wants anything to do with such a base act. But sex is like using the bathroom - disgusting but necessary to continue with important things. “You look kinda scared. You sure about this?”

“I… do not like being touched.” It is hard not to pull her hands away from his grip. Her skin crawls. She will need to wash when this is done, but there is no shower here, just a sink. Brigid will have to walk back to her apartment, smelling of sweat and of fucking, with his hands still on her. Disgusting… but necessary. “But… I need it, when the feelings of desire come. What I dream of is a man who… who simply _takes_ me. I will make some token resistance. But it will not be real. I must fight a little. I can only do it that way…” 

“Well, kid,” She knows this tone of voice he is using. It is the tone of all men who want to calm you before they will do something very terrible. Brigid has heard it many times, sometimes to her, sometimes to the experiment subjects in the camps. Now she hears it from Frank and she knows what it means, “you came to the right shop.” 

His squeezes her hands, as if to comfort, but he leans in close with a hungry look in his eye. Frank does not hide his true self for very long with her. Maybe he understands now that she likes it. The wolf is real. The smiling man is a mask. Brigid prefers the wolf, since she knows what he hungers for. The smiling man wants many things and they are all secret. 

“So is this something you haven’t done exactly - but you… imagined?” Frank asks. There is a glow in his eyes. Perhaps he is wondering if she is a virgin still and he hungers for a title that means nothing. He cannot understand. He is an American. What he asks… he cannot understand. 

In the camps, you were not safe. Women were never safe. You heard sounds often, sometimes at night, sometimes not. Screaming. Crying. Little hurt sounds. The guards, they were always watching you. Brigid was not to be touched. Her guards took her to the laboratories each day, and they took her to the camps each night. Nobody put a hand on her. 

That did not mean things were not said, terrible things… She hears those voices when she sleeps. Her skin burns with memories of things that did not happen. The threat hung over her head until they were liberated and she thought then, now that it was over, she could put it behind her and forget. 

That is when she discovered that there was no putting her past behind her. That is when she learned that she must leave, forever, and become someone who is not a collaborator or a war criminal. But the thoughts stayed, and the needs got worse the older she became, until she was forced to sit here with Frank, her hands in his, asking him for the unthinkable. 

“Yes. I am afraid to touch. But I _must_ be touched...” If they did this, she could forget for a while. The thoughts would not bother her. The dreams would stay away. She would not worry about waking in the night, a wetness between her thighs and a deep shame in her belly. 

Brigid has been told Frank is a handsome man. These things do not usually cross her mind. The way he smiles at her reminds Brigid of a shark, like he has smelled blood in the water and hungers for her. It is this hunger of his she is drawn to. This smile is on his face as his hand touches her thigh and squeezes slightly. "What they call a contradiction in terms. That's you, eh?" 

“Perhaps.” He is American. He cannot understand. But she is done with this talking. It is time to do what she came here to do, what she bought these things for. “Now… please… put the blindfold on me.” 

“Oh yeah.” It’s a black blindfold, soft to the touch. He reaches forward with it and covers her eyes, tying it around the back of her head. It takes some adjusting but when he is done, she cannot see a thing. Only darkness. “There. You can’t see me now.” 

“No.” Without her sight, it is easier to pretend, to imagine she is somewhere else - somewhen else - and that the smell of salt and fish is something else, more rank. “Now that I cannot see you… you can touch me - if you hold my arms down…”

His hands touch hers, grasping Brigid’s wrists. Frank raises them up to either side of her head. His hands are rough and calloused. They squeeze her wrists tight, hard enough to hurt. It’s good. It’s what she needs. Frank puts his weight against her. He pushes her back. Her breath begins to come quickly and her heart beats faster. Brigid’s arms are by her head when he pushes her down on the couch, when he pins her there with his body. She can feel his cock pressing against her thigh. He is enjoying this. She tries to twist away from him but she is careful. Brigid doesn’t dare hurt him. If she hurts him-

You do not ever hurt the scientists in the camps. Not ever. There are subjects to be hurt and Brigid does as she is asked. The tasks they have her do are monstrous and pointless, pain for pain’s sake. If there is any science to be done, anything real to be learned, it is lost beneath the orders she is given. She hurts them but she cannot hurt the scientists who give her useless tasks and demand pointless torture. 

You do not ever fight back. They will kill you if you fight back. Brigid knows better than to do more than just struggle with the body against her, the hands holding her still. But still, still, she struggles. She tries to wrench her hands away. Brigid does not just lie there. She tries to pull away, she tries-

“Just remember,” that’s Frank’s voice. That’s his body against her. He is warm and solid and she stills as he rolls his hips into hers. Brigid’s cheeks go red as she realizes how hard he is, and just from this? Just from touching her? His breath is warm and he speaks into her ear, his harsh accent rasping with each word, “you want it done your way - you do your work my way. You work exclusively for me…”

“Yes Frank.” It is easy to agree. Who else would she work for? He has given her freedom, he has given her so many things… and he is giving her this. She pushes against him and she is not sure if this is good. Brigid has little experience with such matters. Why does she care? This is not what she is here for. Frank is not who she wants. This is- this is not between her and Frank. She tries to push her mind elsewhere again, to the dark fantasy she craves. 

Her wrists are pushed above her head, and he puts them together, holding them with a single hand. With the other, he pushes her negligee up, his fingers crawling across her skin. He takes and she lets herself be taken by him. Brigid is not wearing panties. She is exposed to him, bare and ready to be touched. He will soon thrust into her and there will be pain, this she is certain of. Her breath is tight in chest and it hurts to breathe. Brigid’s body tenses as she feels his hand settle on her cunt, fingers pushing inside and-

“Oh!” She can’t stop the sound that she makes. Frank has his fingers in her and he is touching her the way she touches herself some nights. This is not what she expected. Her arms tug against his grip and she is confused when she speaks. “Frank?” 

“Don’t worry kid, I’ll take care of this for you. Don’t need to be tearing nothing while we’re screwing around.” He pushes against her clit, rubbing circles around it. It should not be good but it is, it is very good. Frank’s hands are rough and this roughness is what feels best. Brigid squirms against his fingers, her breath coming quicker than before. “You like it huh? Getting real worked up about it.” 

“I-is not what we agreed to.” But she doesn’t want him to stop. Brigid cannot say that. She cannot admit that she enjoys such a thing. Frank does not stop and she is both glad and angry at herself for feeling that way. His fingers touch her, stroke her, rub her clit, and all she can do is it let him do that. 

“You wanted to be taken, and sister, you’ve got it. I’m gonna leave my mark on you.” His mouth is against her ear and he growls as his fingers grind against her. Brigid’s mouth is open and she must fight to be silent. Frank’s breath is hot on her cheek and his mouth presses against it, then it covers her mouth and he is kissing her and she shivers. She is trapped between him and the sofa and there is nowhere for her to go. The hand on her wrists squeezes, and the fingers in her cunt move fast, so much faster than she thought possible. There is a feeling in her, the deep twisting she knows from those frantic late night fumblings she does when she wakes from strange dreams. This soon? He is causing her to feel this way when they have barely started? 

His mouth leaves her and she makes a sound, soft and desperate, and all Brigid can think is how this embarasses her. Frank just chuckles and his mouth presses against hers again - a hard, quick press, just as his fingers press hard and quick against her- and then they go lower and she gasps as they are inside of her, his fingers deep in her cunt and she feels them push in and out. Brigid’s hips shove against them and she is shamed by how much he has made her want him - not just the fantasy, but Frank. 

“There you go, there you go. I’ve done a lotta jobs in this town but this may be the best yet.” He lets go of her wrists. She cannot see what he is doing, but she can reach out and find his shoulders. Frank lifts his body from hers for a moment, and when he returns, he has no cloth between their sexes. His cock is hard and she wants so badly to feel him inside of her. He pushes a little on her thighs. “Brigid, kid, spread ‘em wider.” Brigid has done this before with other men and never has she wanted them the way she now wants Frank. It frightens her. It truly frightens her. 

She must resist, she must, and so she does not spread her thighs, not until he pushes on them again. Only then does she open herself to him. Frank’s body is so close to her now, and she feels the head of his cock against her entrance. He presses into her and he slips in smoothly. Brigid did not know sex could be so gentle. She did not know sex with Frank Fontaine could ever possibly be like this. Her hands hold onto his shoulders and her fingers dig in, holding tight to him. 

His cock feels big inside of her. Not seeing it means she cannot tell how large he really is. Frank is very heavy and she cannot move much, not while he is on top of her, not while he is inside of her. All she can feel is him. Frank is not a quiet man, not ever and not here. He makes sounds as he pushes in and out of her, grunts that she could not ignore, even if she wanted to. But she does not want to. He makes such desperate sounds and she cannot help but wonder what is it she has done to make him want her so. “Frank.” 

“Brigid. You feel real fucking good, real tight. Ain’t had anybody else down here, that’s for damn sure.” His hands touch her. They stroke down her body, they push on her negligee until it is up and her breasts are bared. Frank squeezes them and his hips thrust into her again and again, and it all feels good, very good. “You’re so wet. If you sat on my face, I could drown in your cunt.” 

Her nose wrinkles with disgust. That is more like the Frank she knows. “Do not say such things. Is-” 

Brigid does not finish what she wants to say. He thrusts in deep and pinches her breasts, and all she can do is make undignified sounds. Her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She should not have made such a noise, not for Frank. He is inside of her and she can feel his cock moving, thrusting in again and again. It feels nicer than it should and though she wants to hold back all sounds and all signs of enjoyment, they rise to the surface. She is glad for the blindfold, glad that it keeps his face hidden from her. 

“You should wear stuff like this more often. You’re always in that baggy lab coat and it ain’t doing you any favours sweetheart. Though - heh - maybe not. Maybe I don’t want nobody else to notice you.” Frank’s hips thrust forward. Her hips are pinned to the couch and all she can do is hold onto him. He breathes against her skin, her neck going hot and cold and hot and cold with each pant. “You don’t need to fight with me, I got plenty of reasons you’ll like this.” 

How could she have ever thought she could pretend Frank was some other man? Everything about him is loud and demanding; he leaves no room for anyone else to exist. It is his hands that squeeze her, his words that slid into her ears, his cock that pushes in again and again, sliding deep inside of Brigid. Even his smell invades her and all she can see and feel is Frank Fontaine. This is what she thinks when he thrust in hard, and then she is winding tight like a broken toy as she comes, all of her reduced to an instance of shameful pleasure. It burns through her, dragging a broken cry from her throat and making her thighs shake. 

She is still trembling as he kisses her. Her body shakes and he puts his mouth against hers, as if they are lovers. Frank does not ask - he takes, just as he was instructed. She feels him squeeze her right breast, and his other hand catches one of her wrists, holding it against the couch. He rests on her body, pinning her down so she sinks into the cushions, and he is still inside of her and so very hard. Brigid does not kiss back but he does not notice or care. Her world is darkness and there is nothing to take her mind away from Frank. 

“You liked that.” It is not a question, it is a statement. Brigid did like it. He smiles and she knows this because she feels him smile, his teeth pressing against the side of her mouth. Frank whispers against her skin. “You know, they call you Frigid Tenenbaum. If they could only see you now.” 

“I would not want them to.” She turns her face away when she feels him come close for another kiss. Brigid does not like kisses. They are grotesque. Frank pinches her nipples and fucks her cunt, and he takes his hand off her wrist so he can turn her head and kiss her again. She bites at him and he just laughs. “No more of that.” 

“You’re a real tough customer for somebody who was screaming for me a few minutes ago.” He pushes her hips up somewhat and then begins to thrust in again. Her body goes tight, surprised by how it feels better than before. Brigid squirms and tries to change it back, but Frank keeps her still, driving into her. “You got a real problem with just giving in and enjoying things. We’re already fucking, no reason we can’t enjoy it.” 

But that was the point of this. The point was not to enjoy. The point was that she would not like this, that she would not like him, and that she could scratch that ugly itch that haunted her. It was meant to be something ugly and painful. But her thighs are wrapped around him, holding Frank deep within her, and she can feel the tension building again, her body winding tight once more. "Frank, this is too much. This is not w-what I was needing."

"Of course it was. You've got yourself convinced you gotta hate everything about this, like its medicine you can't stand the taste of." His hips keep driving into her, thrusting his cock deep inside of her. Each sharp motion from him makes her body tighten further. She sets her hands on his shoulders and she digs her fingers in, unsure if she wants to hurt him so he stops, or if she is fighting this so she can say later that she did not really want it, not really. The hand on her breast tightens enough to make the flesh ache and she makes a soft sound, caught between pain and pleasure. The noise makes Frank’s cock twitch inside of her and he growls as he keeps fucking her. “See, there you go. You want it, you just can’t admit it. Go on sister, lie to yourself if you gotta, but you’re just missing out on all the fun you have if you just give in.” 

Giving in isn’t an option. Still, she doesn’t fight as hard as she could. His eyes remain unscratched and she keeps her thighs spread for him. Tenenbaum hates that she does like this, and that she also is liking Frank’s touch. He is an odious toad, he is not someone she should be liking, not now or ever. But he just keeps touching her, his hands on her and his mouth on her and his cock deep inside of her, his thrusts quickening. Her hands push his shoulders and then pull, and he kisses her, more teeth than lips. Frank is so heavy and she can do nothing but lie there as she feels her pelvis pull tight for the second time that day. 

The noise she makes when she comes is barely human. The noise wrenches its way out of her at the same time as her orgasm does, and as her body locks up and all she can feel is wave after wave of endorphins, she just lets her head fall back as she cries out. Frank doesn’t silence her. He encourages her instead, his hips still thrusting hard and fast inside of her. She may say his name or she may not - Tenenbaum is barely aware of anything that is not the shameful pleasure her body is feeling. 

Their flesh slaps together as Frank begins to lose his pace as well, leaning over her and keeping her pinned to the couch. “That’s the ticket, ah yeah, stay spread for me Brigid, I’m nearly there. I got something for you, something special for you, and it’ll keep being yours as long as you work for me and nobody else. Promise me sister. Promise me.” 

Her mouth opens but no sound comes out. Tenenbaum’s trembling softly and her thighs twitch each time she feels her sex pulse around Frank’s cock. She has never had two orgasms during the same session of sex and she feels as if all of her breath has been squeezed from her. Tenenbaum feels as if she will go mad from this, from Frank Fontaine’s horrifyingly welcome presence. 

“Hey, wake up sleepin’ beauty.” His fingers grab onto her face, pulling at her blindfold. Light floods in and she squints. Frank is above her and he is horrible, and yet. And yet. Frank’s eyes lock with hers and her breath stutters softly. His look fixes her to the bed like a butterfly on a pin. “Promise me. You wanna get fucked like this again, promise me-” 

“I promise.” She says and she is glad only Frank is here to see the humiliation on her face at admitting she enjoyed this on some level. Frank puts both hands on her hips, and he fucks her hard for the better part of a few minutes, until the post-orgasm glow fades and she’s left in the hands of Frank Fontaine. 

He pulls out of her and crouches over her, a hand on his cock as he strokes himself. She flinches softly when he comes on her belly, the warm liquid making her skin crawl as he empties himself. Frank makes loud sounds, harsh grunts that end with him trailing off. It is strange - without the blindfold, she finds it easy to notice his failings. Without her vision, he was so powerful, so possessing. With it, he is just… Frank. 

Frank leans back on his knees, his undershirt now stained with dark sweat spots. Brigid reaches up and pushes her negligee down, covering her body. Her thighs are damp with unmentionable things and the cum on her stomach stains the silk. She does not care. Brigid will not be wearing this again. When she looks up, he is staring at her, and for a moment, she is frightened that he may try to kiss her again. 

To her relief, he does no such thing. Instead, he hands her the blindfold. “Keep it kid, as a momento. Something to remember your first time by. I’ll get Reggie to walk you home, keep you safe from the riffraff.” 

Frank is wrong, this is not her first time. But she says nothing. It does not matter. He may think what he likes. She takes the crumbled piece of fabric and unsteadily gets to her feet. The heels were not so bad when she was lying down, but she wobbles in them as she walks. It is easier to stop and take them off. “You may have these. I will never wear them outside.”

“That’s a shame, they made your ass look great.” Frank says and she shoots him a look. Those comments are not welcome. He just gives her a smile that’s bordering on smug. Tenenbaum steps into her regular shoes and pulls her long coat on over it. “Hey, Bridge, come here.” 

She reluctantly approaches Frank. He just pats his lap and though he was inside her not five minutes ago, she is reluctant to sit there. Tenenbaum instead sits beside Frank, pulling her coat tighter around her body. “What is it?” 

“Next time you’ve got an itch to scratch, drop by my apartment.” He sets a hand on her back, giving it a rub. Frank leans in and when she is not looking at him, she feels her stomach flip a little as he whispers into her ear. If she doesn’t look at him, he makes her feel very strangely. “The code to the elevator is 4848. Think you can remember that?”

“Yes. It is easy.” She turns to look at him. He is a sad man with his penis hanging out and an undershirt on. Tenenbaum should laugh at him. And yet, he has made her come more than other men have. “I will call first.” 

“Smart move kid. It’ll give me time to get prepared.” The hand slips low until it rests on her ass. The shark smile is back, just as hungry as when they started. “If you like blindfolds, I got lots of other fun toys for us to play with.” 

She does not want to think of other ‘fun toys’, but now that he has said them, she knows she will do just that. Her cheeks are red when she stands. “Please call the guard Frank. I am tired.” 

“Of course you are. Just sit down, relax, I’ll get the boys.” He finally gets up and she watches as he pulls his underwear on, hiding his shame. As he calls for Tenenbaum’s escort, she finds herself staring at the blindfold in the palm of her hands. These other things - the negligee and the pumps - she will never wear these again. 

But this blindfold… she knows she will wear it again. Her hand closes around it, making a fist, and she pretends that she does not want this again. It will not last, but she can still pretend.


End file.
